The Visit
by YenSerenity
Summary: Mello is pretty miserable. He's sick and he's angry at everyone. Then a neighbor girl comes to visit... which doesn't really help things... at first. One-shot.


When I was a little girl, growing up in Winchester, England, it was not normal for children with parents and homes to spend time in orphanages.

But when my parents and I moved across town and I, an only child, found myself half a mile away from a house full of playmates, I was determined to become the exception to that unspoken rule.

One might have thought my parents would object, but they did not.

It was a snowy February day, and in order to enter through the kitchen door, I had to walk further through the snow-- all the way to the back of the mansion. I was walking near the side of the building when a window opened above me, on the third floor, and Mello stuck his head out.

"Jenny! I was hoping you'd come today," he greated me in a nasal, slightly hoarse voice. "Could you please help me? I threw Matt's game cartrige out this window about an hour ago, but now I want to get it back, and I'm not allowed outside because I've got a bit of a cold."

Somehow, none of this surprised me.

"Well, do you know _where_ you threw it?" I asked.

"No. But Matt is really mad at me. You have to find it. It was... kind of... brand new. And he's even sicker than me so he's not allowed to go get it, either."

I squinted up at him. Even from this distance, I could see that his face was rather flushed and his hair was messy. He seemed sincere in his claim to be unable to get it himself, due to sickness; but I'd learned from prior experience that Mello could not always be taken at his word.

"You're not going to throw water down on me, are you?" I asked, standing at a safe distance while I scanned the snow-covered ground for Matt's game cartridge.

"I would if I'd thought of it sooner. But I really didn't think you'd be coming today... Well, come up when you've found it." He replied, shutting the window.

I sighed, feeling slightly guilty for having suspected him, when he sounded so sick and even, in his own way, had seemed happy that I'd come. So I made up my mind to do as he'd asked.

Five, then ten minutes went by as I searched the entire area. It began to grow dark, and the snow-- which had been falling steadily when I'd arrived-- stopped, giving way to a harsh wind that blew the powdery stuff into my face. What a day to have left my gloves and scarf at home! Before long, my hands, face, and ears went numb.

After twenty minutes, I finally gave up the search, and started trodding slowly towards the kitchen door-- when I felt something solid under my foot. It was the game cartrige, burried in the snow at a very odd angle from Mello's window. He must have thrown it underhand, making it harder to find.

Thoroughly frusterated, I picked the cartrige up and completed the last few steps to the back door.

The cook opened it a moment later.

"Hello, Mrs. Woods," I greeted her.

Because my face was numb, I found the act of speaking to feel strange. I must have frowned as I greeted her, because Mrs. Woods frowned back at me.

"You should not have come today, in such bad weather. Look at you!" she exclaimed, grabbing my shoulder and pulling me into her warm, bright kitchen. "You'll be the next one sick in bed; I'm warning you. What will your mother say? --You, who are lucky enough to have one."

She returned to the counter, where she was slicing one of six freshly baked loafs of homemade bread.

The scent of it filled the room, along with the gentler aroma of chicken soup. It made me hungry, so, even after I'd removed my boots, coat, and hat, I lingered near the counter.

Mrs. Brown soon finished with the bread and started to rush around the large kitchen, adding more carrots to the soup and preparing things for the next day.

"Are you looking for something to do around here?" She finally asked me. "Anne's gone home already, but I can still put you to work if you're just standing around."

I blinked, coming out of my stupor. "Um... no thanks, Mrs. Brown. I'm going up to visit Mello," I told her. Then, as an afterthought, "Do you want me to take anything up to him?"

She looked at me, slighly surprised. "Well, you could, since he's too sick to eat in the dining room with everyone else. Actually, all three of them-- Mello, Matt, and Dan-- are sick, up there. They've been running me ragged all day; its like they think I'm their personal slave or something," she grumbled good-naturedly. "I'll have to take them some soup later; but for now you could take them this freshly made bread."

She handed me a plate with three steaming, buttered white slices. "Here. I won't give you a tray; it'll be less cumbersome. Thank you, my dear."

I took the plate, stuffed the game cartrige in my other pocket, and left the kitchen.

I plodded up to the the third floor slowly, feeling rather tired. This was certainly not what I'd thought would happen! When I'd offered to take Mello some bread, I had hoped I might get some as well. Usually Mrs. Wood would have given me a slice; but she seemed to be rather overwelmed today, no doubt because of Mello...

Before I knew it, I was standing in front of the door to the room Mello shared with Matt and Dan.

I knocked, and I heard Mello saying something. Then Matt opened the door. When he saw it was me, his eyes-- which were rather bloodshot, I noticed-- lit up. But it wasn't because he was happy to see me.

"Did you find it? Did you--?"

With red, still tingling fingers, I pulled the game cartridge from my pocket and dropped it into Matt's eager hands. My reward was a slight grin, aimed towards the game cartridge, and a mumbled 'thanks' as he retreated back into the room.

I followed him in. A moment later he was playing his video game, caughing horribly all the while. He was so absorbed in his game's world that only when his caughing was so violent that he could barely breath did he put the video game aside and take a drink of water. Meanwhile, I stood in the center of the room holding the plate of bread, and looked around for Mello.

Like all the orphans' bedrooms at Wammy's House, this one was rectangular in shape, and had three beds, all facing the door. In the bed closest to me was Mello and Matt's roommate, Dan, who appeared to have fallen asleep with his head covered by a large pillow. This clue told me that, as I'd suspected, Mello and Matt had been arguing loudly up until just a few minutes ago.

Mello, I saw, was in the bed furthest from the door, lying on top of a pile of blankets. He turned his head slightly towards me when I entered, then returned to staring at the ceiling.

I set the plate of bread on a table beside him, and sat down on Matt's empty bed. I crossed my arms.

"I found Matt's game cartridge, which you threw out the window."

To my displeasure, Mello responded by closed his eyes, nodding slightly as he did so. He was telling me to continue-- and I had no intention of dissapointing him.

"It took me a long time to find it."

He sighed, as if dissapointed in me, and nodded again. His silence annoyed me.

"Well, are you at least going to tell me why you threw it?"

He opened his blue eyes and sighed deeply.

"He's been ignoring me all day," came his faint reply, as he glared in Matt's direction. "And I just wanted someone to play chess with me, so I can beat L in our next match; but he wouldn't, no matter how many times I asked. Finally I just got tired of it." As he said this, he pulled himself up into a sitting position, then layed back on the mountain of pillows behind him, apparently exhausted by that small movement. He closed his eyes again-- but I didn't miss his sidelong glance, to make sure I'd seen his performance.

I glared at him. He had finally succeeded in making me furious at him.

"Mello, stop pretending to be so sick! If you were well enough to open the window and talk to me through it half an hour ago, you can't be almost too sick to move now. And that's not even mentioning all the energy you spent fighting with Matt over his game cartridge this afternoon." The anger in my voice sounded so heartless. I suddenly felt powerful and afraid at the same time.  
Mello turned to me, his blue eyes wide and innocent looking in his pale face. "But I am not pretending; I am sick. This morning I had a fever of a hundred and... and..." But he didn't finish his sentence. Perhaps he was tired of lying; or perhaps he was tired of not being believed. I could not tell which it was as he turned away with a shallow sigh. "Nevermind."

I stared at his back for a moment until, feeling guilty and eager to leave, I stood up. My eyes fell on the slices of freshly baked bread.

"I brought you some fresh bread from the kitchen. It's still hot. Do you want it?" I asked calmly, certain of his reply.

"No."

"Why not? Have you lost your appitite?"

Mello turned around slowly to glare at me. "I don't like plain bread. It has no flavor. I want chocolate."

I stared back at him in amazement.

"You want chocolate?!"

"Yes."

"Oh, so now you're asking me--"

"Will you get me some chocolate?" He asked, a sure smile on his face.

"No, I will not get you chocolate. I will get you chicken soup, if you want it, because you are sick; but that's all. I'm tired and..."--I stopped myself from saying I was hungry just in time; pride sets its limits-- "and I'm going home. I wish I hadn't come at all today."

I stood up and took the bread with me, putting it on the small table by Dan's bed so that if he woke up hungry, he'd have something to eat. Matt, I knew, wouldn't want to be interrupted with the idea of food until Mrs. Brown came in an hour later with the chicken soup.

I was just at the door when Mello called me back. Despite my annoyance with him, I went, scowling at him all the way.

"Jenny, are you hungry?" the blond boy asked quietly.

I was so surprised, I did not move or speak; but he understood my response.

"Then please eat my portion of the bread, as thanks for getting me that game cartridge. I'm not hungry anyway." He turned away.

The last of my anger was gone. Yes, Mello was infuriating and selfish; but that just made it that much harder and rarer for him to be nice to someone.

"Thanks, Mello," I replied as I ran over to grab the bread and devour it.

Although it was no longer as hot as it had been at first, it was still just as delicious and satisfying. When I had finished eating it all, even the crust-- which, in homemade bread, is always the best part-- I returned to Mello.

"Do you need anything, before I go?"

Mello shook his head, his usually devious eyes watching me seriously from his reclined position.

"Ok, then. Mrs. Brown will be up to bring you all some chicken soup in a while," I announced as I left the room.

Once in the hall, I closed the door and sighed. I was so confused about Mello. So often, he seemed selfish, heartless, and annoying; yet other times, there seemed to be some good qualities in him.

I smiled and ran down the stairs.

Later that evening, Mello found half a chocolate bar hidden in the napkin Mrs. Brown gave him, along with the chicken soup.

I made sure of that.

_Author's Note: I would love to hear your thoughts on this._

_Come on, I know you have somehting to say about it! __So leave a review. :)_


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